Ninja For Hire

Naoki grew up watching action movies, idolizing the culture of the mysterious ninja. They were often depicted as the villains; a shadowy league of assassins. He was blind to the morality of their position. Naoki grew an obsession with the ability of a person to become one with shadow. In his pajamas, he would sneak around the house. It was often the more treacherous stunts where he failed and injured himself that drew him further and further into his love of ninjas.

Just a boy, he told his parents he was going out to play. He carried piles of paper out of the house to his parents' confusion. They ignored it as he ran towards the street, pulling a stapler out of his self-made dark red ninja robes. On every empty wall or pole, he posted a big sign offering his services.

Though days passed before anyone approached the house, Naoki knew it would come. An elderly man slowly walked up to the house and knocked on the door. Naoki’s parents turned to shout to their son.

“Is there a ninja here?”

From above the doorway, Naoki descended, fully cloaked. He landed gracefully on the floor and exclaimed, “I AM YOUR NINJA.”

The old man bowed and stated, “My prized sword is missing. I believe it was taken to the temple. Please retrieve it for me.”

Naoki didn’t respond. Instead, he took off running towards the Shaolin temple, excited to have a reason to visit, and more so to be on a mission. The temple was open for anyone to enter only one day a week. This was not that day. Naoki snuck into the back area of the temple grounds, hidden by tall grass. He trudged through as quietly as possible, fully conscious of his ninja status. As he emerged from the thicket, he was greeted by three of the monks, smiling.

The monks beckoned Naoki forward onto the pathway, admiring his robes. They walked ahead, allowing the young man to follow. In the center of the temple, Naoki saw a strange, human-like figure standing stoically, legs and arms together. One hand was raised with two fingers pointing up. Between him and Naoki, an odachi hung in the air. Naoki knew immediately it was the sword he sought.

Naoki broke from the pack and charged up some steps to the center of the Shaolin temple. The monks noticed too late and moved to stop him. He leapt at the sword, but it jerked towards the figure, passing through it and then floating behind it. It was made of pure shadow; a being not of this world. The figure returned to its position, but Naoki had a mission. He pounced for the sword one more time.

This time, he grabbed the sword’s handle. His foot, however, was held by the shadow figure. It was angry now, and dragged Naoki down into the earth. The monks reached through the shadowy form and held Naoki’s hands, trying to save him. As Naoki’s last moment of air came, one of the monks tapped him on the forehead decisively. His spirit rose from his body and the monk guided it into the only object nearby; the odachi.

Naoki’s body survived the passing into another realm and trained in shadow arts for many years. It learned to transform at will, only able to take the form of a praying mantis. After defeating legions of darkness, the body returned to the realm of the living. It was drawn, ever since being separated, to reunite with his spirit.

He fought legions of darkness to return, finding that the temple was abandoned. The odachi awaited him at the entryway. Naoki took the handle and the blade glowed a vicious red in response. The fallen ninja was separate, but complete.

Naoki returned home to find the town was empty. He picked up an old, worn piece of paper. His mother had kept the poster that began his journey, which, long ago, adorned the walls of the now desolate town. Naoki shoved it into his robe and began descending through the earth, empty without a new mission. After so much time, just as the poster read, he was still a Ninja4Hire.